400 Per Hour
by themickmonster
Summary: There she was, even more beautiful than the last time you saw her. How long had it been? 2, 3 years? Her glasses were gone, her hair was big, and beside her, a woman held a cardboard sign that read, " 400 Per Hour". The girl of your dreams was selling herself on the streets. And you were pretty pissed about it.
1. Chapter 1

The mornings were beautiful in Austin. You loved waking up to the feel of the college student infested city. It was some kind of hipster paradise for them. Indie music poured from the restaurants down the block, so loudly that you didn't need an alarm to wake you. Normally, you didn't get up for half an hour after gaining conciousness. You were too lazy to actually get anything done this early. Well, you were just lazy most of the time.

You moved the curtains to see if it was still raining. You didn't understand Texas weather. No one did, really. Sometimes it rained while the sun was still out. Sometimes it would stay dry for weeks. It was rare that the weatherman could ever be trusted. You remember that poor guy saying something like it was a great week to take a dip in the gulf, but it's been raining for days.

Luckily, it wasn't raining now. The sky was pink and orange as the sun peeked through your curtains. You could hear the birds chirping outside, and the wind rushing through the trees. You turned to see your best friend laying beside you. The shadows of leaves danced across her dark skin as she slept. Draped across her shoulders, her hair seemed to be perfect as ever. Her expression was peaceful. Her small, pink lips would form a smile occasionally, and her brows would furrow as the traffic outside got louder. You wondered what she was dreaming about.

You loved waking up beside her, drinking in the scent of her perfume. Some kind of flowery smell that was sweet, but not obnoxious.

Hot fuckin' damn, she was beautiful. You were pretty doggone proud to be the one in bed with this gorgeous piece of ass. Just stick her on the fridge like an A+ essay. Put her in a trophy case and show her off. Laminate and preserve those curves. You don't meet a total babe like that every dynasty.

You kissed her forehead once or twice. She stirred in her sleep, clutching the sheets tighter. The sheets were white. You didn't remember having white sheets. But fabric wasn't exactly your biggest concern at the moment.

It had taken you quite a while to realize that she was bare.

As in completely naked.

As in you, Dave Strider, had most likely done the motherfuckin do with Jade Harley.

Before you could even try to recall the night before, you forgot everything and watched as her eyes fluttered open. She smiled at you, showing off her adorable teeth. You tried to say something, but her sweet voice filled your ears.

"Good morning, Dave."


	2. Chapter 2

"Get the hell up, you lazy piece of shit."

Instead of sleeping beauty, you were greeted by your no good, dumbass, loud mouth, cock-sucking jerk of a brother. You groaned and rolled over in your bed. You hoped to find her next to you like before. You searched for her soft skin, her long hair, her nude figure next to yours...

The sheets were red.

It was too good to be true, anyways. You haven't had Jade over in years, and you hadn't even talked to her face to face in a long time. Of course, when she first moved here from Hawaii, you two started hanging out immediately. But after high school, you had both gone to different colleges for different reasons. You had the dream of being a producer, and she wanted to become a scientist of some sort. Between school and work, you both slowly drifted apart. It's been two years since you last saw her. She was buying toilet paper in the supermarket. You waved at her, and she waved back. You wondered what she was up to lately.

Your brother, being the merciless bastard he was, ripped the sheets from you and forced you to sit up. "Look, I get that you're exhausted and it's early, but if you don't get your ass up, your editor might kick the door down. She won't go away."

This whole thing had started to become a routine. You would have a lovely dream, your brother would interrupt it, and some coworker would show up and make your life suck even worse.

You slowly got up, slipping your shades on and not bothering get dressed. You were the spitting image of a douche in your sunglasses and MLP boxers that you had borrowed from your bro.

Dirk was right, you could hear her knocking from the other side of the apartment. Carefully, you opened the door. "Good morning, sunshine," she growled, walking past you, making sure to bump your shoulder. You ran a hand through your hair and shut the door, knowing that you were in some sort of trouble.

"What do you want, Rose?" You decided to get yourself a glass of Dr. Pepper as she took a seat at the table. She didn't even hesitate to prop her feet up. "Why aren't you at work?"

She sighed for a long ass time. So long that you assumed that she had practiced sighing enough to get a spot in that world record book everyone fought over in the library. Finally, she spoke, putting a hand to her head.

"This is the fifth time I have had to come over, Dave. How many more times will you promise to go to that school, and then call in 'sick'? You are making all those poor children upset."

Oh. Yeah, you should probably have gone the first time... but you were too busy playing that new video game your best buddy, John, got you. It was a shitty game, but man, the nerd was so fucking pleased that you would play it with him. You couldn't just let him down like that. Who would desert his best friend in the lego version of stealing the Declaration of Independence? A dick, most likely. And you were only a dick to him when he wasn't making those stupid doe eyes at you. You hated that stupid fucking look. He always got his way when he batted his lashes and acted like a child.

"Chill. They're too young to watch SBHJ anyways, so I don't even get why they want me to visit. I mean yeah, I'm the shit, but those kids shouldn't even know who I am." You put your drink down and sit across from her. You watched as she rolled her eyes into her skull. For a split second you thought she might start having an excorcism.

"Of course they know who you are, stupid. We sell merchandise in almost all over the place. Did you forget that every other Happy Meal now comes with a Jeromy figurine? The children love the censored SBHJ comics. You are their hero!"

You aren't quite sure how, but after a long, wordy lecture, you were completely dressed and on your way to the elementary school. Perhaps it was just to get Rose off your back, or because she had you convinced that these kids actually liked you. Anything for the fans, right?

It was true that your movie and comic series were a huge success. You sold merch across the world, and there were billboards all over town. Everyone knew who Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff were. You were one of the most famous people in the world now, but not that many fans actually knew or cared what you looked like. They only knew your name. The director is never as great as the actors in society's dumb fucking opinion.

Whatever. You were still bathing in more money than any actor would earn.

When you got to the school, you had no idea how to entertain these kids. There was dead silence as you walked onto the stage. You could see all the twerps staring up at you, some picking their noses, others falling asleep already. They obviously didn't know who you were.

So fuck it. You started freestyling about your movie career and they went nuts. They didn't even understand half the shit spewing out the sound system, but they knew you were awesome the moment you threw a pack of skittles into the sea of 6 year olds. When you finished, you casually put the mic back on the stand and walked off.

From that day forth, you were the coolest mother fucker in Texas.


End file.
